John and I were traveling across Kansas headed to Colorado in 2002 for a much-needed vacation. You can see for miles and miles across the wheat fields without ever spotting a single car, tractor or person. We were in the middle of nowhere and I needed to make a pit stop. He kept saying "I'm sure we will find a place soon.” Finally, a highway sign that indicated there would be one several miles ahead. I was squirming by this time and seriously concerned if I was going to make it.We arrived at the rest stop, which appeared to be a newly constructed one with all the most sophisticated fixtures. We were traveling West and it was located on the East bound side of the highway. I had to cross a median to get to it on foot. I rushed into one of the stalls and pulled one of the seat cover sheets from its holder, unattached the centerpiece and properly placed it on the toilet seat. Before I could get my paints unbuttoned, the automatic toilet flushed and took the seat cover with it. Assuming it was because the center portion must have been touching the water, I would try another approach. So I pulled a second cover from the container and this time I reversed it so the center fell from the front, not touching the water and just as I got my pants down, the commode flushed again with such a vortex that it sucked it down just as fast as the first.Determined not to sit on a public toilet seat, I grabbed the third seat cover, jerked the center portion completely out then placed what was left of it on the seat. Believing I had it sufficiently secured with one of my legs, I squatted to take my position on the seat...it flushed a third time and down it went.Needless to say, I relented and took the risk of contacting that dreaded disease my mother had always warned me about, sat on the bare seat and finally found the relief I had entered the structure to do.Sometimes, you gotta do what you gotta do.
